


caught (in your creation)

by outofthesun



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: BDSM, Chastity Device, Cock Rings, Dom/sub, FE3H Kinkmeme, M/M, Masturbation, NSFW, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, PWP, Sub!Dimitri, dom!claude
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:55:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25512430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outofthesun/pseuds/outofthesun
Summary: “You’ll be a good boy for me today, won’t you, Dima?” Claude had crooned softly in his ear that morning, working the ring around the base of Dimitri’s cock, already wet with pre-come. “That means no touching yourself – unless you want to get punished, of course.”Dimitri and Claude play one of their games.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 13
Kudos: 90





	caught (in your creation)

**Author's Note:**

> I filled [my own KM prompt](https://t.co/f3o5h76aBH?amp=1) after being inspired by an absolutely wonderful art fill by jaspurrlock - [here](https://t.co/f3o5h76aBH?amp=1)!

Dimitri shifted in his seat at the council table.

One of his councilmembers, Viscount Kleiman, was responsible for today’s main agenda item, and as king, Dimitri _should_ have been listening to him attentively. The tariffs imposed on Albinean goods would have a significant bearing on their emerging export market, and Dimitri _should_ have been engaging and taking in the views of his council. Sylvain and Felix, to his left and to his right, were both engrossed in the proposal, undoubtedly formulating considered responses - as was their duty.

Dimitri’s own mind, on the other hand, was otherwise occupied.

The plug he was stuffed with was pressing perfectly against his prostate, and every time he moved, even slightly, it made the sensitive bundle of nerves ignite. It was taking most of his mental capacity to remain still, and the rest to listen just enough to nod at appropriate intervals.

“You’ll be a good boy for me today, won’t you, Dima?” Claude had crooned softly in his ear that morning, working the ring around the base of Dimitri’s cock, already wet with pre-come. “That means no touching yourself – unless you _want_ to get punished, of course.”

Implicit in those words was tacit permission. Dimitri never truly wished to disobey Claude – wanted only to please him, to earn his approval – but every now and then there was a certain thrill in being “punished” for some transgression of Claude’s invention. Dimitri swallowed down a moan, something warm settling deep in his belly at the thought, as the barest shift in his chair jarred the plug once more.

“-Majesty?”

The entire Council was staring. Sylvain seemed faintly amused; Felix looked like he wanted to stab him.

 _Damn_.

He cleared his throat and glanced at the inquiring noble. “Yes, Lord Gideon?” 

“You look… flushed. Are you quite well?” Sylvain appeared to be suppressing a laugh, then yelped as Felix somehow managed to stamp on his foot under the table. Dimitri, for his part, could only wave the question off and try to summon up some semblance of appropriate decorum.

“Of course. Do continue, Viscount.”

It wasn’t as if Dimitri was a stranger to playing such games with Claude. Completing his paperwork that morning had proven challenging, but not impossible, provided that he sat just-so to avoid feeling the presence of the plug too acutely. But the tedium of Council had, fortunately or unfortunately, made his mind drift to what might await him that evening - what Claude might have conjured up to relieve the stresses of time spent apart - and that, combined with the plug’s sensations, was almost enough to tip him over the edge.

It had, however, been Dimitri’s suggestion. These sort of things were normally kept to their bedchamber, frequent though they were, predominantly to avoid the risk of being discovered; begun after long days spent carrying out the business of ruling. Given Claude’s absence that day, though, dealing with Alliance matters in Daphnel - Dimitri had thought the timing appropriate for them to _branch out_. 

“To remind me of you, whilst you’re gone.” he’d said, quiet and flustered, and Claude had smiled and promised he’d think of something.

 _Something_ had been a plug larger than anything in their collection, plus a cock ring, strict instructions not to touch - and the promise of a reward, providing he was good.

And Dimitri did _want_ to be good, very much, but…

The viscount was still droning on, finally reaching the crux of his position (from what Dimitri could gather, exorbitantly high tariffs). Sylvain looked about ready to intervene, and the rest of the room seemed to be waiting for his inevitable rebuttal, their attention diverted from their liege - a small mercy. 

Sure enough, Dimitri was not called on again. Two agonising hours later, the afternoon break for refreshments arrived, and rather than conferring with Sylvain (as he probably should have done) he hurriedly made his excuses, striding back to his chambers and locking the doors with an urgency that probably alarmed the guards stationed outside.

It was now or never. What remained of Council would last until the close of the day, by which time Claude would have returned from Daphnel.

Dimitri’s fist closed tightly around his cock, and the rush of both pleasure and guilt made him cry out. He slipped off the cock ring, handling himself roughly just as he liked, all too aware that the break would be over in mere minutes. If he was going to seek release, he had to do so quickly.

He thought of Claude that morning - of the casual authority in his voice, how he had _manhandled_ Dimitri - and thought of what Claude might be thinking of, now - of Dimitri, stuffed for him, waiting for Claude to come home and reward him for being good. 

Or perhaps Claude had expected him to disobey; perhaps he was expecting to return that night and punish Dimitri. Dimitri moaned as his mind recalled past such occasions: being edged for hours, endless pleasure but ultimately denied release; the time Claude had taken him over his lap and spanked him until Dimitri was frantically rutting against his leg, ass painted bright red by Claude’s hand.

It was only a matter of time before the combination of the plug, his thoughts and his hand sent him careening over the edge, jerking against the bedsheets and smearing them with his come, evidence of his disobedience in plain sight.

 _So much for being good_ , he thought; part regret, part anticipation.

The break nearing its conclusion, Dimitri quickly cleaned himself up and returned as Council recommenced, but the remainder of the discussion passed him by in a blur. He was faintly aware of the debate becoming increasingly heated, and interjected once when the conversation started to devolve into personal attacks - but otherwise his thoughts were stuck firmly on the approaching evening.

The day ended with Kleiman’s proposal (thankfully) thoroughly dismantled by an extremely smug Sylvain, and whilst Dimitri couldn’t help but feel regretful at how little a part he’d played, he was soon distracted by a figure at the door.

Claude hadn’t bothered to change out of his travelling clothes, which were rumpled from his return flight - but he looked perfectly at ease as he approached Dimitri and the viscount, who was making a final effort to argue his case to his liege.

“Ah, Viscount. I understand your proposal was on today’s agenda.” 

“Yes, on the tariffs we might set on Albinean goods, Your Majesty.” Kleiman’s mouth pressed into a thin line of disapproval. “Alas, Margrave Gautier disagreed.”

“I’m sure it was an extremely stimulating debate.” Claude inclined his head, notably expressing neither agreement nor sympathy. “I was sorry to miss it.”

“Yes, well.” Kleiman sniffed, disdain barely concealed beneath a veneer of civility. He glanced at Dimitri. “His Majesty does seem… out of sorts, today. Perhaps we can revisit the topic another time.”

Dimitri saw Claude’s mouth twitch imperceptibly, eyes knowing.

“I’ll see to it that he’s taken good care of.” The affable smile could almost be mistaken for genuine, and would be, by most. “Thanks for the concern.”

The dismissal in Claude’s voice was polite but clear - clear enough that the viscount relented, disgruntled murmurs just audible as he closed the door to the Council chambers. Dimitri knew that there would likely be ramifications, but in that moment, alone with Claude, he found himself caring very little about them.

“An eventful Council, then?” Claude asked, and Dimitri shrugged.

“I really couldn’t tell you, my love.” He said bluntly, and Claude laughed.

“I’ll ask Sylvain for a debrief later.” his expression shifted into something a little more mischievous. “For now, I think we have more… _pressing_ business to attend to.”

***

Dimitri did not recall much of the walk back to their bedchamber, except the warmth of Claude’s hand in his - before he knew it, the door was shut, the guards had been dismissed, and they were alone again, as they had been that morning.

Claude had not seemed to notice the state of the bed. He was staring at Dimitri intently, eyes warm and dark with arousal.

“I’ve been looking forward to this all day, Dima.” he said, voice low. “I didn’t have a great time in Daphnel - a _lot_ of angry merchants - but now I’ve got you all to myself, all desperate for me to play with you.” he ran his nails over Dimitri’s scalp, and even that lightest of touches was enough to make Dimitri gasp, on edge as he was. “Oh, you’ll do anything for me like this, won’t you, lovely?” 

It wasn’t a question - Dimitri would, and they both knew it.

“And right now, I think you can go ahead and take all your clothes off for me.”

Dimitri did not hesitate, stripping out of his royal raiment quickly - feeling calmer for each piece he removed, though his hands shook around the fabric as he exposed the truth of what exactly he’d done that day.

Claude’s eyes took in the distinct lack of a ring around his cock, pointedly glancing at the incriminating bedsheets - he _had_ noticed - and fixed Dimitri with a decidedly more authoritative stare.

“Did you not do as I asked?” he asked, eyebrows raised, a warning note creeping into his tone - but eyes glinting. 

Dimitri made himself take a deep breath, and met Claude’s gaze, trying not to shake with the anticipation of it. “I… I was thinking of you, of your hands on me… of you thinking of me. By the time Council began, the need was too strong, and in the afternoon recess, I just had to - “ 

“So you touched yourself.” Claude interjected, voice just on the edge of stern. “Did you come?”

Wordlessly, Dimitri nodded.

“You’re normally so obedient, my love.” he murmured, moving forward to cup Dimitri’s cheek, thumb lazily tracing the outline of his jaw. “This isn't like you.” 

“I know, I -” Dimitri shook his head, forced himself to take another breath. Claude did not rush him, fingers carding aimlessly through Dimitri’s hair, touch soft. “I want you to punish me, as you promised.” When Claude was silent, he looked up at him once more, expression bare-faced and desperate with need. “Please?”

And Claude smiled then, and reached into his pocket.

The cage was made of gleaming silver, a series of interconnected rings with a padlock near its base, and alongside it was a small, innocuous key.

“If I can’t trust you not to touch…” he trailed off suggestively, watching as Dimitri turned the cage this way and that. As with all of the various games they played, this was the opportunity to stop, to use the word that would make Claude step back and set the punishment aside. And Dimitri knew that if that word were to leave his lips, Claude would do just that, no questions asked, and they would cuddle in front of the fire and eat their dinner.

But Dimitri’s cock perversely (yet predictably) swelled at the thought of being imprisoned, with only Claude able to release it.

“Absolutely.” he conceded. 

Claude’s answering smile was part approval and part mischief as he reached forward, device in hand. His fingers were deft as he maneuvered Dimitri’s cock, sliding the cage into place, and as the lock clicked shut, Dimitri felt something inside him settle, satisfied.

“There.” Claude surveyed his handiwork, and the cool, assessing gaze he fixed on Dimitri’s now caged cock was enough to make Dimitri shudder with want. “I think you can wear that for... hmm, two days?” his smirk was dangerous. “Then we can try today over again, see if you’ve learned your lesson.” 

Dimitri inhaled sharply, and the cold metal of the cage made itself known again as his cock tried to swell - but couldn’t.

“I had planned to reward you, if you’d been good.” Claude continued, and the disappointment in his tone would have stung if Dimitri wasn’t all too aware it was only part of the game. “But as you chose not to follow my instructions… you can pleasure me instead.” He sat, Dimitri kneeling naked, caged and flushed in front of him - and unbuttoned his riding trousers, spreading his legs expectantly. “Go on, Dima.”

Dimitri needed no persuading. He took Claude’s cock into his mouth, and the warm, familiar weight of it was enough to send him into the space where he could think only of the task he’d been given. He had become an expert in satisfying Claude, knew exactly how to please him, and after a few minutes of enthusiastic attention he let out the barest whine of pleasure. Dimitri could have crowed in triumph. 

“Oh, good _boy_ , that’s it - “

Dimitri moaned around his mouthful of cock and the vibration made Claude tense, tugging roughly at his hair. He was already close: Dimitri could tell from the way his hips were moving, his parted lips. He started suckling more insistently, wanting to make Claude come - his own cock still encased in its cage.

With a muffled cry, Claude came down his throat, the grip of his fingers holding Dimitri in place until he had taken all of the spend, and for a minute the only sound in the room was their breathing. Claude’s eyes were heavy-lidded with pleasure, and his hand was soft in Dimitri’s hair as both of them came down from the high. Once Dimitri’s breathing had evened out, Claude coaxed him to his feet and into their bathroom, where a steaming bath awaited them - as it always did after they played their games, no matter what time of day or night. 

Dimitri was still only half aware, in a mysterious state of limbo that both dulled and heightened his senses. But as Claude settled them both into the tub, Dimitri’s back to his torso, he could feel the warmth of the water, and callused fingers kneading at his scalp. Claude’s voice was tender as his lips spilled out soft praises, nonsense comforts meant only for his ears. He would have stayed in that place forever, if he could: in his husband’s arms, the stresses of the day forgotten, being lavished with endearments he could tuck away and remember when the voices in his head became too loud.

Eventually, though, the water began to chill, and he opened his eyes.

“Hey there,” Claude murmured, voice low so as not to startle him. “You with me?”

“Mmm.” Dimitri mumbled groggily, trying to stir his limbs into some form of cooperation but finding resistance.

“Easy, easy.” Gentle hands pressed at his shoulders. “No rush.”

Relaxing back into the tub, Dimitri’s gaze landed on his cock - still locked up tight - and Claude laughed quietly.

“Two days, remember, Dima?” he whispered teasingly. “Are you going to be good this time?”

As kings, their diversions could only be fleeting; their duties never truly disappeared. There was always another problem to solve, another person to help, another noble to placate.

But Dimitri knew they would always have plenty of games to play.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from F+tM's "Third Eye".
> 
> My first fic in a hideously long time, so comments especially adored! And thank you again to Jas for ending my writing drought through fabulous art <3
> 
> [My twitter](https://twitter.com/_outofthesun_)


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